Chapter 31 - A Million Rainbows

“Dover, when you said you were thinking about it, I thought that meant you were coming to the game? My bad. Call me back.”

That was the first message I received from Kyle. He had called me right after his game ended. I assumed so, anyway, because of the time.

He called again shortly after that, but he didn’t leave a message.

Then he texted: Hey, since I haven’t heard back, I’m going out with Matt and a couple other assholes from school. I’d be happy to ditch them for you … would love to ditch them for you. Call. Anytime.

His next text, two-and-a-half hours later, revealed that he was on to me and that he’d read my silence for what it was.

He sent: What’s wrong?

When my phone rang a few minutes later, I had to answer it. I couldn’t send this message to him by text, and I couldn’t keep ignoring him. I picked it up and kind of mumbled a “Hi.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” said Kyle. Just the sound of his voice made me want to run to him … my lifeline. But I couldn’t do that this time.

I had planned what I was going to say to him. I’d written it out. I was on my bed, staring at my notebook. It was two short sentences. But I had to get them right. Because if I said this wrong, he would take it wrong, and I was so worried he would take it wrong.

My breaths were shaky, and I couldn’t calm them. And it was making it so much harder to talk. I forced myself to breathe and focus. “Kyle, um … I need a couple of days. I have a lot going on, and I just need some time to sort through it.”

He was quiet for a second. “You need a break from me?” His voice was cracked. Broken. Hurt.

“No. No. No, not a break. No, no, no, no …” I couldn’t stop saying no. That was exactly what I didn’t want him to think I meant.

“Okay, okay … then what?”

I hadn’t planned out any more sentences. I had written my line, making sure it didn’t contain any lies. I didn’t want to lie to Kyle. But I also didn’t want to tell him any of this.

“Bree, did something happen with your mom? Lyndsay?”

I let the line go quiet. I was crying because I didn’t know how to answer him.

“Oh shit,” he said, responding to my pathetic sobs. “Hey, can I come over? So we can talk about it?”

“Um … No. I probably should just go. I really need some time,” I said, hating myself for saying it. Hating myself for so many things right now.

“You need time,” he said, letting a long, drawn-out minute pass as he tried to wrap his head around that. “So what does that mean? You don’t want to talk or see each other? Because Christmas is in three days. Do you not want to see each other for Christmas?”

Charlie and I were supposed to go to his house on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t meant to be a huge thing. They weren’t having a party or anything. We were just going to hang out and make cookies for Santa. For Charlie.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s bad timing.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Bad timing? Christmas is bad timing?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “So I’m realizing you’re not going to give me anything right now. Which is okay. I guess. You need time. But it leaves me having to make some assumptions.” He cleared his throat a little. “And I’m going to lean toward you and me being okay because that’s all I can handle. And we were good at lunch today, right? Really good, I thought?”

“Yeah, we were. Really good,” I said, remembering how happy I had been just a few hours ago at lunch with him.

“So I’m going to assume this is not about me? Is that fair?”

“It’s not about you.”

“Okay. That’s good. But that means I can’t fix it.” Kyle’s sigh was thick as it hit against the phone. “Bree, remember, I told you that you don’t have to keep stuff to yourself. This might be one of those times to take me up on that.”

I wiped my tears, feeling the bandage on my cheek. The pain was worse now. But it wasn’t just the fight with Lyndsay and Taylor that I was so afraid to tell Kyle about. That was part of it. That was the obvious part. That was the part he would focus on if he could see me right now. But it wasn’t the only reason I was crying. “I can’t, Kyle. I can’t. Not right now.”

“All right,” he said. “You can’t talk right now.” A sniff came through the phone, and I realized he was crying too. “Do you mind if I talk? Or is this ‘time’ thing really your way of telling me you need a break from me? I mean, if that’s true, I can give you that. I’ll give that to you. Just tell me.”

“No. I don’t want a break from you. Not like that. There’s just stuff I can’t talk about right now. I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, look, you don’t have to talk. It’s fine. But do you mind if I keep you on the line for a few minutes? I have something I want to tell you. You don’t have to say a thing. So no talking or anything, I just want you to listen.”

He was being too sweet, making my crying worse, and I couldn’t control the stupid, heaving breaths that sputtered out as I spoke. “Yes … please. I would love to … listen to you.”

“Ah, Bree,” he said. “You’re actually breaking my heart right now. Dammit. Uh … okay.” He took a deep breath and sighed it out. “So I think you’re pretty incredible, Brianna Dover. Do you know that? That would be true even if you wanted nothing to do with me. You could call it off right now, and my opinion about you would not change. Okay? Just keep that in mind. Because the last thing I would want was to be a problem for you. Um … but I’m still being optimistic, and I’m still going to assume that is not the case.”

“It’s not, Kyle.”

“Okay. I’m really glad to hear that.” He stopped talking for a second, then went on. “You’re the strongest person I know, Bree. You know that song, ‘Titanium?’ That song is for you. All the warrior songs are for you. The way you triumph over really crappy situations. You’re absolutely incredible. And I mean that. So strong. So brave.

“And somehow you manage to conquer this shitty world while remaining one of the nicest people I know. You’re an extraordinary person who is going to go really far in life. There is no doubt in my mind about that.

“I’m incredibly grateful for having been able to get to know you this year. And you might be right about Charlie bringing us together somehow. I think about it a lot … how this whole year could have gone exactly like the past three years had. You know, just waiting for it to be over? Waiting for high school to be over, so I could move on. Because that’s all I was doing before you came. And then one little thing changes all that …”

“The battery,” I muttered.

“Yeah, the battery in my mom’s fucking Cadillac. Can you believe that?”

I laughed.

“You have a great laugh, too. Shit, are you sure I can’t come over? I just want to give you a hug. You wouldn’t have to talk, I promise. I’ll just hold you.”

I reached, touching the bandage on my face again. It hurt when I pressed on it. It was swollen, and I kept accidentally biting the spot in my mouth where my teeth had cut into the skin, making it worse. I wouldn’t even be able to kiss Kyle, which is all I wanted to do.

“Okay, never mind,” said Kyle when I didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, because I was hurting him, and I hated it.

“Nope. You don’t have to say sorry to me. I’m going to give you that time you need. Hopefully, it isn’t too long because I already miss you. I won’t call or bug you, and I’m going to do that on purpose, so don’t take it as me snubbing you or anything. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And I’m going to assume you’re doing the same to me … until you’re ready to—”

He stopped mid-sentence. He stopped because he didn’t understand this. As much as he was trying, he didn’t understand.

“Well, until you’re ready to talk again, I guess,” he said. He was quiet for a minute. “Okay … bye, Bree. And Merry Christmas … if I don’t see you for Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

Kyle sighed. “Okay. I guess I’ll let you go, then.”

“Hey, wait,” I said, stopping him.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to know if you won your game tonight?”

“Nah, we didn’t win. I played pretty lousy. I’m kind of glad you didn’t see.”

“Well, I know nothing about sports, so I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference, probably. Sorry I missed it. I meant to go.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I wanted to.”

Kyle sighed into the phone for the hundredth time. “You didn’t go, but you wanted to?” He let out another long sigh before speaking. “All right, Dover. Just know I’m here. A phone call, a text, a car ride away. Okay?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay. Bye, Bree.”

“Bye, Kyle.”